Subject to Change
by catlover5040
Summary: After Trout's reign of terror begins, Juliet knows right away that her life is going to change. And it does. Surely as the sun sets, her life begins to not just change, but unravel before her eyes. Relationships shatter, bridges are burned. In her haste of throwing everything away, she almost throws away what means most to her. LASSIET
1. Chapter One

***Originally titled "Consequences"***

**A/N: Hey guys! I've been gone for a while because I'm in high school and it's getting to me. I'll try to post occasionally.**

**Anyway, I haven't even seen the Season 7 Finale(stopped watching the episodes because they were just so bad), but here's my take on the events of that episode. Lassiet friendship, hints of Carlowe, probably break-up Shules. I'll update when I get a chance. **

**Please R/R, lovelies!**

* * *

"_No."_

Juliet glared across the desk at Trout, not knowing what she was doing but only knowing that it was the right thing.

"Come again, Detective?" Trout raised his perfect eyebrows and something in her burned to punch him in his stupid face.

"I said no," she said firmly, and stood up.

He looked at her in mock confusion. "Detective O'Hara, I just offered you a promotion," he said slowly, and drawing out each syllable of "promotion" as if he was just trying to make her listen to his voice longer. "This is the best thing that could happen to your career within the next five years. Why would you refuse?"

"Because I know what you're trying to do," she answered coldly, staring into his eyes that looked back at her with infuriating indifference. "And it won't work."

"What am I trying to do, then?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

"As if you don't know," she spat, each word coming out harsher than the last one. The anger in her own voice scared her. "You're trying to destroy the department by breaking us down one by one. We've become more than co-workers, all of us, and _you're _trying to destroy that because your stupid little brain can't handle anyone being better than you. We've become an amazing team, the whole department, but that's only because of the leadership of myself and my friends. You're trying to destroy our relationships, and it _won't work."_

He seemed surprisingly nonchalant after this monologue and raised a single golden eyebrow again. "If you're such a great leader, then why are you turning me down?"

She didn't answer. She knew if she spoke right then, she would probably punch him.

"You would be great, you know," he drawled, leaning back in his chair lazily. "_Head _Detective O'Hara. You're what this department needs."

She had to sit on her hands then to keep herself from pummeling him to the ground, from making his stupid Anthony Michael Hall-ish face bleed so badly he'd need plastic surgery. She felt violent, something she rarely felt, but it felt good and terrified her at the same time.

"You know I could never take that job," she whispered, and was shocked when she heard her voice waver. Was there some fiber of her being that _did _want that promotion? That scared her even worse than the ugly violent monster rising up inside her.

"Some part of you must be tempted, though," he said calmly. "You could have power. You could have it all. You'd be my second in command."

She couldn't control herself then. She jumped to her feet and leaned across the desk, so furious now she didn't know what was keeping her from giving him what he deserved.

"DO YOU THINK I WANT THAT?" she shouted, so loudly that a few people outside the glass of the Chief's office- it was Chief Vick's, it always would be -started and looked at them. It embarrassed her, but not enough.

"Detective, if you don't calm down, you will regr-" he started to say, but she cut him off.

"_No!" _she shouted, so furious that she started to shake. "DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT I'LL REGRET!"

She paused. He glanced at her.

"Are you done now?" he began flatly, but it was too late. Her fist went flying towards his face and made contact with his nose. He swore loudly and she took a step back, still shaking from fury and the magnitude of what she had just done.

Blood dribbled down from his nose, and he looked up at her spitefully.

"I should arrest you," he hissed.

"Go ahead," she snapped. "I would love to be arrested for giving you what you deserve."

"No." he glared at her with identical fury to her own. "You're fired."

"You can't fire me," she retorted before she knew what she was doing.

"And why's that?" he sneered.

"Because _I quit!" _she ripped her badge off the chain around her neck and threw it in his face. It took every ounce of her being to keep from spitting at him. She had punched him, and that was enough. She was to the door in three strides and slammed it behind her, the impact of what had just happened not quite sinking in.

* * *

Marlowe heard a knock at the door. It was a short knock that stopped halfway through, like the person who was knocking wasn't really sure if they should do it or not. She opened the door and was only half surprised to see Juliet standing there.

What really did surprise her, though, was how torn down Juliet looked. Her shoulders were sagging, her hands clenching and unclenching, and her entire demeanor was just generally unconfident.

"Marlowe," she blurted out as soon as the door opened. "Is- is Carlton home?"

"Yes," Marlowe said slowly, regarding the younger woman. "He's in the living room."

"Can I talk to him?" Juliet's voice was composed, but there was a slight tremor to it.

"Of course-" Marlowe began, and Juliet stepped forward. She rushed on. "Is everything okay, honey?"

Juliet halted and started to say something, and then stopped. Then she sighed and looked up at Marlowe. "No. Everything isn't okay, and I need to talk to Carlton now."

Her eyes were starting to glisten now. Marlowe stepped away from the door so Juliet could get in.

"Carlton," she called, stumbling to the living room. Marlowe slowly followed and stood in the doorway, watching the two of them.

Carlton was on the couch, flipping idly through T.V. channels. His defeated appearance was enough to make anyone want to give up. His jacket was on the coffee table, his tie undone, his sleeves unbuttoned at the wrist. He glanced up, his face lined with stress and anxiety.

"O'Hara," he said warmly. His expression softened as he saw her shaking, stricken appearance. He stood up and embraced her briefly. Marlowe felt tears come to her eyes as she watched her husband welcome the troubled young woman. _This is why I married him, _she told herself. _He's pretty darn obstinate most of the time, but when he's not being a pain in a butt he's such a sweet man._

"What's up?" He put a hand on each of her shoulders and regarded her seriously.

"I- I-" she stumbled over her words and looked down at her feet, trembling delicately. Slowly, she fell towards him and started to sob. She hung her arms around his neck and he held her to him and kissed the top of her head.

Marlowe turned away quickly and pretended she hadn't been watching. She wasn't jealous, of course- Carlton had few friends and she wasn't going to begrudge him the one healthy relationship he had. It was only that she felt as though she were interrupting something rather sacred. She walked away, listening to Juliet blubber in the next room as Carlton soothed her quietly.

* * *

"Okay." He poured her a drink and looked her in the eye. "You've had a chance to cry it out, now tell me what's wrong with you."

"I lost my badge." She looked at the table, ashamed, and wiped at her mascara-tinted tears.

"Trout fired you?" He leaned forward quickly and put his hand under her chin, lifting her face up so they were making eye contact again. "What did he say to you? Did he- Juliet, I swear on my father's life, if he hurt you-"

"Carlton." She laughed weakly. "He didn't hurt me. Not physically, anyway." She glanced at the table again and looked back up. "He didn't even fire me, Carlton. I quit. I threw my badge in his face and left."

"Oh." He chuckled in spite of the situation. "Did we have a little temper tantrum, young lady?"

"Er-" Juliet ducked her head in embarrassment. "I may have- you know -punched him in the face a little bit.

There was a tense, anxious pause. Then Carlton threw back his head and laughed.

She looked at him in surprise and then started to laugh tentatively as well. He looked at her almost proudly, his eyes gleaming with mirth.

"But just a little bit, right?" he teased, tugging her hair across the table.

"Just a little bit, yeah." She laughed with him, feeling a little more at-ease than she had before.

"Well, I'm proud of you, Juliet." She beamed at the rare use of her given name. "I doubt that moron knew what hit him."

"Oh, he knew, all right." She leaned back in her chair and let her hair fall back, listening to the lovely sound of pleased silence. "He knew."

"Well, if he messes with you, let me know," Carlton added more seriously. "He must have really provoked you in order for that rare display of violence."

Juliet quickly looked at her knees and bit her lip. She'd left out that little detail of what they were arguing about, hadn't she? Well, she didn't intend to tell him, no matter how much she trusted him. Even if he did find out, it sure as heck wasn't going to be from her.


	2. Chapter Two

"Jules, what are you trying to tell me?" A harried Shawn Spencer ran his hand through his hair again.

For once in her life, Juliet O'Hara really didn't know what to say. She was cleaning out her desk, packing her possessions away, closing a book and locking it away on a shelf.

"I'm telling you it's over, Shawn." Juliet took a deep breath, focusing on the Psych themed snowglobe in her hand before she tossed it into the cardboard box beside her. "We're over."

She flinched. And then- nothing happened.

Incredulously, she looked him in the eye. He didn't look angry. His shoulders slumped and he looked rather like a child who had just been told that Santa Claus didn't exist.

"Juliet, please." Shawn leaned forward and grabbed her hand. She yanked it away, feeling tears burn her eyes. This was much harder than she had expected. If she really wanted to break up with him, why was it so hard?

"I'm sorry, Shawn," she said quietly, holding his dismayed blue gaze. "I really am. But we just don't work for each other right now. And we won't, ever. We're both unemployed and I'm sorry, but I don't trust you to get a job. It just won't work."

"Why'd you ever date me, then?" His voice grew bitter as his cobalt eyes hardened. "If you knew we 'wouldn't work'... why'd you give me false hope?"

She sighed and bit her lip, feeling miserable. "You're a nice guy, Shawn. I'll give you that. You do make me feel wonderful and you're fun to be around. But for every sweet compliment, every smart joke, every obscure 80s movie reference, there'd be something else. Like a law violation, or something you didn't do that I know you remembered, or a put-down on my best friend-"

"Your best friend." he scoffed.

"Yes, my best friend." She seized a tattered copy of Watership Down and thrust it viciously into the box. She swept a whole pile of pens and papers off the desk and set the box on the ground with an angry thump.

"He's been there for me when you haven't, Shawn," she said nastily. "He respects my wishes and doesn't try to meddle. He loves me unconditionally and-"

"And what?" Shawn sprang to his feet and glared at her, truly hurt. "And I don't?"

"This isn't a competition!" She rose to meet his eyes and crossed her arms defensively. "You shouldn't have dragged Carlton into it. This is a matter of you and me and what needs to end."

"Jules, please," Shawn tried again. "Juliet, I have no-one. You make every day magical for me and-"

"Face it, Shawn." Juliet marched over to her desk and picked up the last momento- a framed picture of her and Carlton. "Flowery speeches just aren't going to cut it this time. We're really over."

She placed the picture tenderly on top of the rest of her SBPD life, now held in a single cardboard box. Then she closed the flaps and picked up the box.

"Why don't you try Abigail Lytar?" she said, sounding snider than she had intended. "Since you're done with the fake psychic business and all. I hear she moved to San Francisco."

And with that, she turned her back on Shawn Spencer and her old life and walked out of the SBPD's doors for the very last time.

* * *

She heard the doorbell ring just as she set down her mascara bottle. "Coming," she shouted, and ran down the stairs as quickly as she could in heels.

Juliet opened the door and found Carlton there, just as she had expected. He was smiling pleasantly and she couldn't help but throw her arms around him.

"I did it today," she whispered without even saying hello. "I- I broke up with Shawn."

"Oh, Juliet." He squeezed her hand and pulled away. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." She smiled, trying to look braver than she felt.

"You don't have to cry." He brushed at her eyes and her hands went to her face. Slightly embarrassed, she turned her back and locked the door so they wouldn't have to discuss the matter further.

They both walked silently and swiftly to his car. She swung the passenger's side door open and practically threw herself in, leaning back in the seat.

He inserted the keys in the ignition and she expected him to start talking. About her, her and Shawn, their lives, the future. But there was only silence- pure, glorious silence.

That silence was maintained the rest of the car ride until he pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. She gasped when she looked up and saw the name-_ L'Enchantement._ Exactly the most expensive restaurant in a 100 mile radius.

"Carlton," she said reproachfully, and he shrugged. "You shouldn't be spending money like this."

"Remember, I was only demoted. I still have a job." He halted, backpedaling at this lack of tact. "I mean- er- that came out wrong. Sorry."

They laughed it off and entered the restaurant. The waitress led them to their table and Juliet watched the too-romantic candles flicker as she departed to retrieve their drinks.

"So." Carlton leaned forward intently, holding her gaze over the candlelight. "You quit your job, you broke up with your boyfriend- what's next? What're you going to do with your life?"

"I dunno." She looked down at the table like an ashamed little girl being lectured by her principal. "I was thinking of selling my house."

He tried to hide the shock evident on his face. "Why- what would you do that for?"

"There's nothing in Santa Barbara." She sighed in exasperation and exhaustion. "It's just a tiny, crowded beach town. I came here for my job, and stayed here for it. There's nothing left for me. I need to move on."

"What about me?" he raised a dark eyebrow.

"You- well, we can visit each other, can't we?" she tried. The truth was, she really didn't have an answer.

"Where will you go?" he pressed.

"I don't know. Wherever the job takes me, I suppose. I heard about an opening at the Lubbock PD."

"Lubbock?" he grabbed her arm suddenly. "That's- Texas, that's too far away."

"Carlton, you don't need me," she said gently, looking him in the eye. "You have Marlowe. You have a job. You have... a life. Everything I don't."

"So." He said again, and leaned back in his chair irritably. "You broke up with your boyfriend because he was too nice, and now you're cutting me off too? Are you planning to go live in a cave or something?"

"No," she said defensively. "I just feel, well, I don't know. It's too difficult to stay here. What if Shawn doesn't leave? And I can't stay unemployed. I'll never get my job at the SBPD back, Carlton, never. I assaulted him. I should be in jail right now."

"You assaulted a moron," he muttered, and she laughed in spite of herself.

"I don't know." She leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "I really don't know, Carlton. Three days ago I knew everything about my life and future, and now... I know nothing."

"Don't we all," he murmured, looking deeply into her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: So... whaddya think? Inspiration is just coming. R/R!**


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long. I had fun writing this chapter, though. It's all pretty melodramatic and just a little bit contrived, but I just love bouncing these characters off each other.**

**This chapter drifts more into Lassiet romance instead of just friendship stuff. If you don't like, don't read.**

* * *

"You're not thinking straight," he said evenly, anger threatening to come out from under that flawless facade of nonchalance.

"I know what _you _think, Carlton," she said testily, holding his steel blue gaze. She let her legs swing back and forth, under and out of his desk, like she'd done on many an occasion. This was something she hadn't considered when she'd hastily thrown away her relationship with the SBPD. She and Carlton would never have the same relationship again, never again that flawless, seamless, careless partnership. There'd been such little pressure and so much trust in that relationship. _And now we will never look at each other the same way again._

The sudden wave of tearfulness must have shown on her face, because he softened slightly. "Yes. I'm telling you what I want. I want you _here. _I want you to _stay. _But you don't seem to want the same things, Juliet, so tell me what you _do _want."

"I..." She feigned fascination with the coffee stain on his desk and traced it with a single finger. He waited for her to say more, but she didn't dare to oblige.

"Why don't you tell me why you've been so emotionally invested in this whole thing to begin with," he prompted.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she murmured, not looking him in the eye.

"Oh, come on. You haven't been yourself. Something snapped in you when Trout demoted me and it hasn't snapped back into place. I'm worried about you." He brushed a wayward strand of hair out of her face and she smiled ruefully. "You didn't have any particular reason to go haywire like this, at least, no more than the rest of us. What's wrong with you? Where's my girl?"

"I guess it was just a good cover for me," she mumbled, examining her fingertips and not wanting to look him in the eye. _Pity. He's _worried _about me. _Something raged inside of her, the same something that roared in the office with Trout. _Back to your train of thought. Keep explaining yourself._

"It was a cover for me to trash my relationship with Shawn," she continued, feeling distant and vaguely lightheaded. "I... I dunno. I was so happy about working here and working with you, but... I just felt trapped. I felt like I couldn't have it both ways, you know? Like, the SBPD was caging me in to Shawn, and if I broke it off with him I'd have to... you know." She shifted uncomfortably.

"I understand." His voice, his face that she did not dare to look at, both told her the opposite. _No, I don't understand you at all, but I want to and I'm going to try. _

"No, you don't." She stood up abruptly and he grabbed her hand.

"Don't leave." His voice stopped her in her tracks, but she didn't turn to face him again. "I know it must be painful for you to be here, still, but-"

"But what?" she spat, feeling the scorn in her voice slice through every layer of his ego and pride. "But what, Carlton? Why are you keeping me here? Why did you _ever _keep me here? We're going in circles, we're accomplishing nothing. Just let me go, okay? You can't have it all. You can have this SBPD life or you can have me. There's no way for you to have both anymore."

She knew the effect her words had made on him and instantly wished to take them back. But she didn't try to fix it. Instead she turned her back on him and marched straight out of the SBPD.

* * *

_You're not being productive, _she told herself as she ripped a picture of her and Shawn off the wall. The picture showed them when they first moved in together, and something raged inside of her to destroy it.

"But then, you don't like being productive, do you?" she said aloud, and then realized what she was doing.

She moved on to the next picture- her and Shawn at her birthday party the previous year. She snatched it from the wall and threw it on the ground, listening the glass of the frame shatter.

She moved down the wall, going back in time as she knocked pictures and memories to the floor. Their entire life together- every case, every birthday, every Christmas.

"Why do I have so many darn pictures of him?" she muttered. _And why did it take me so long to take them down? _

She'd cut off communication from the outside world as well. Shawn had gone through his routine of calling her landline, then her cellphone, and then texting her- _Call me, Jules -_only a thousand times. He really didn't get the definition of the word "over", did he? And of course, he'd gotten his poor father and mistreated best friend to call her too. All of those calls had gone ignored.

Carlton had been calling her, too, and she hadn't answered because she didn't want to hear his voice. She didn't want his caresses and endearments, she didn't want his pity.

And then there was Vick. Vick was Juliet's old boss, and a sort of friend. They were never particularly close, but they'd always shoot each other polite sideways glances- like, _We're getting on fine, I hope. _Juliet had a great deal of respect for the woman and couldn't imagine the worry she was going through right then. After all, she had lost her job too, and she had a child to feed. And she'd been calling, too, obviously put up to it by Carlton. Or Shawn. Asking her to _be reasonable, think about what you're doing..._

But Juliet O'Hara did not want to talk to anyone, right then and there in her life. So she unplugged her landline and threw it a closet. Her cellphone had the battery removed and it was locked away in a drawer.

She had hit a wall, and a big one. She had spent the whole day in her house, and didn't know what she was going to do with herself. Her whole life had crumbled before her eyes, and she didn't have anything to do. Her parents had called her and said she could visit them, but that was before she unplugged her phone. She didn't want to talk to them either, let alone visit them. She was too ashamed to face them.

Presently she heard a knock on the door. She tensed up and instantly an image spun in her head of who it might be behind the door, outside these destructive walls. It was Henry Spencer, of course it was. Standing there in his passive-aggressive manner, checking his watch and holding his breath. And when she opened the door- _if _she opened the door -he'd be sweet and kind and ask to enter. And when she let him, he'd pin her down with wildfire accusations and try to get her to make up with Shawn. If she started to cry, he'd be instantly repentant and at her side, and then throw an entire armada of reasons at her about why she wasn't thinking straight.

_Well, you're not, _she murmured, and flopped down on the couch. _And that's why you broke up with his son. They're all the same._

She heard another impatient knock. It wasn't Henry, she thought, it was Shawn with a bouquet of flowers and an even more perfume-tainted speech riddled with affection and artificial kindness. Or it was Trout, or Chief Vick, or her parents, or-

She heard a click and felt a sudden spasm of fear as she heard the door open. She swung herself onto her feet, but before she could react she heard a voice.

"You weren't answering your phone, so I took matters into my own hands."

It was Carlton. She felt a faint shiver of relief that it wasn't Shawn, wasn't Henry or her parents or Trout. _Thank goodness it's just you._

"Yeah, it's just me," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice, and she realized she had spoken aloud.

"How'd you-" she started to say, and he raised his right hand slightly, which, she realized, was holding a key.

"Shawn's key," she said breathlessly. "He gave it to you?"

"I took it from him," Carlton said with a satisfied smirk. "He didn't want to give it up, the moron, but I ripped it out of his hands. All yours now." He tossed it to her and she caught it. "He can't break in now."

She felt a wave of gratitude and wanted to fling herself at him, but she didn't. She felt an impulse to shove him out of there, but she didn't. She stood there, still as a rock, waiting for him to make the next move.

"O'Hara, I need to talk to you," he said, not unexpectedly. "You're not thinking straight, okay? You're basically in shock, a lot of things happened that you didn't expect and now you're going crazy. You're doing a lot of things now that you're going to-" he glanced at the shattered glass and picture frames on the floor. "-regret." He raised an eyebrow at the sight and she shrugged helplessly.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked in a soft, sad voice. She knew that voice well. He used it when Victoria handed him the divorce papers. When she broke up with Shawn. That awful night on the clocktower.

"Nothing's wrong with me," she answered evasively, knowing this was such a lie. She glanced down at a cut on her palm from the broken glass and quickly clenched her hand shut.

"You're lying, Juliet," he said in that same gentle voice that just about broke her heart. "I know what you look like when you're lying. You're hurt, you're scared about your future, you're vulnerable. I will help you through all of this if you just promise to stick around and be reasonable. I'll help you find a job again, I'll protect you from that loser of an ex-boyfriend, I'll take you in if it comes down to that. I will do whatever I have to to keep you from slipping through my fingers again."

"Again?" She raised an eyebrow, knowing what he meant yet not daring to believe.

"When I lost you to Spencer." He glanced at the floor and then smiled at her casually as though he hadn't practically just professed his love for her. "What I'm saying is, you're trying to burn all your bridges because you don't think you have anyone to rely on. You can always rely on me, I promise."

"Wait, slow down." She took a look into those captivating blue eyes and felt her knees start to go a bit weak beneath her. "What you said... if I hadn't hooked up with Shawn, if we could do it all over again, would you...?" She let her question mark float in the air, hang silently over their heads.

"Yes," he murmured, slipping into that soft, sad tone again, and she remembered another time he'd used it. The day after he found out that she and Shawn were a couple. "Yes, I know I would, Juliet. You've made my life better in every way, and... and I was an idiot. I was blind. I let arbitrary things like protocol and age get between us and I let you get away."

"I didn't get away, Carlton," she said quietly. "I'm standing right here."

A moment of indulgent silence followed and she didn't dare breathe, didn't dare look him in the eye. And then he simply leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead as he'd done many times before. But it meant nothing.

Nothing that could be sustained, anyway. He loved her with his full heart, as she'd known for some time, and she knew now that she loved him with every fiber of her being. It was much too late, though, because he loved Marlowe just as much. Or did he?

_This is why, _she thought suddenly. _This is why I've had so many conflicting emotions about this whole ordeal. The SBPD was my last connection to Carlton, the last way I could easily sustain a platonic relationship with him. And now that I've let that all go down the drain, I've lost him. Again._

"Look at us," she murmured, and he raised an eyebrow in question. "A bunch of misfits. We let each other go- I let _you _go -and now look at me. We're nothing."

"You're not nothing," he said earnestly. "You're more than that."

"What am I, then?" she said suddenly, feeling a burst of emotions- anger, sadness, a desire to _get the heck out of here _-well up inside her. "What can we possibly be, Carlton? We're all of it or nothing, and we certainly don't have it all. You and Marlowe- you do. You have a happy, two-way, sustained relationship. The one I'll never have with you."

"Juliet, you need to stop dragging names in," he snapped, and she felt the tension build. "This isn't about Marlowe, this is about _you. _You and me. Us."

"But there is no us!" she burst out, close to tears now. "Carlton, for years you've been following after me like a lost dog. And we _were _both happily settled in relationships. Just because mine turned out to be trash doesn't mean you have to throw away yours!"

"I'm not!" he shouted, raising his voice in a manner that pleased her and terrified her at the same time. "Make everything about you, will you? I said that _if I could do it over again _I would stick with you. But not now! Not even if something happened to Marlowe, I wouldn't come to you for anything. Because _you're _the one who chose that idiot Spencer over me."

This hurt more than anything else he could say. _I didn't choose him over you! s_he wanted to scream. _You're the one who shut me out, you're the one who rejected me time after time... _

But she didn't let it show. "You're the one who just professed your love to me," she said icily.

And that did it. He shot her one last heartbroken, betrayed glance and strode out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Her heart was pounding hard and her head was throbbing even louder. Things started to spin and she quickly sat down on the edge of her couch.

She knew was about to do. It wasn't the right thing, but she was sure of that so she decided to go on it.

Without hesitating, she ran upstairs and into her bedroom. She yanked her small rolling suitcase out from under her bed, not thinking about exactly what she was doing. She grabbed a few articles of clothing out of her closet and tossed them into the suitcase. She pulled a blanket off the end of her bed- who knew where she'd be sleeping tonight? Motel 6, her car, the side of the road?

She zipped up the suitcase, grabbed her wallet and her purse and ran down the stairs as fast as she could. She tore away from her house, not even closing the door, and threw herself into her car.

"Come on, O'Hara. You're doing this," Carlton's voice said, and she jumped before realizing that it was not Carlton speaking, but her own voice.

But she was right. She _was _going to do this.

She jammed the keys in the ignition and took off like a bullet into the vast Santa Barbara night.


End file.
